The Worm that Devoured Wyrms
by WildlyLaughing
Summary: Ripped from Fuyuki at a young age and now in a place so alien it might as well not even be the same planet, the Grandson of Worms faces off against Demon Cults, Dragons, and a Daedric Prince of Madness who makes Zelretch look sane. It's the end of the world, and not just because Alduin the World-Eater has come. Shinji Matou is The Last Dragonborn!
1. Sneak Peek

_"Some believe that Dragonborn are sent into the world by the gods, at times of great need."_

-Master Arngeir of the Greybeards of High Hrothgar


	2. Chapter 1: Who are you?

**Chapter 1: Who are you?**

* * *

The world slowly came into focus from its blurry dreariness, the biting cold of the bitter snow and sharp winds which sliced into his skin left no doubt. This wasn't a dream. The jostling of the wooden cart only cemented this fact in his mind as each and every stone they rolled over on their way down the mountain path made what was sure to be the last few minutes of their lives as uncomfortable and as dreadful as possible.

He slowly looked around, blinking away the grogginess of unconsciousness away with what was left of the ice that had crusted over his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the fact that he wasn't alone. Three other people were in the cart with him, clearly being a mish-mash of people from different walks of life.

There was an angry-looking man sitting right next to him in what looked like the finest clothes he'd seen in a long while, a majestic fur cloak draped over an armor that had only been dulled by the harsh weather. A bruise was clear to see on his cheek, something which might've marked a humiliating defeat on others only served to highlight him as someone who could achieve victory even in defeat . Through it all, a wild ferocity radiated from the man, reined-in only by the pride and charisma of a man who was born to lead. All of which only served to make the fact that he was bound and gagged like an animal even more ironic.

The ones who had captured them, and it was obviously clear that they'd all been captured, were either masters of irony or were deliberately trying to send a message. Sitting across from the proud man that radiated a wild ferocity was someone who couldn't have been more different. The contrast couldn't have been clearer and more strange than a pleasant, sunny day in Windhelm. Where one was dressed in fine clothes and armor, the other wore what amounted to a threadbare sack with holes that had been cut out for the neck and sleeves. Where the former sat with an unflinching pride and ferocity despite tightly bound and gagged, the latter sagged in a defeated posture even though he barely had his hands tied up. Dark bags were under his eyes, the shadow of cowardice marking him as someone unimportant and likely to soon die without even knowing anything else of the situation at hand.

Casting his gaze in the opposite direction, he saw two people in what was clearly uniform armor. Under his eye, he noticed the shoddy craftsmanship of the metal, the faded and contrasting colors which told of their allegiances. It was something which was just good enough to give to the rank-and-file, yet leagues above what the average bandit could afford. That was where the similarities ended, though. The one sitting across from him, with the torn blue cloth loosely shrouding his armor, had ragged hair and was bound like the rest of them. The other man, the one who quite literally held the reins that commanded the horses tethered to the cart, wore his leather cuirass with a crisp perfection. It was well-maintained, the red symbolizing his devotion to his faction, was neatly ordered.

Seeing that no one was paying attention, he tested the ropes that bound and lashed his hands together. It wouldn't be the first time he'd gotten tied and bound. The only thing missing would be that old crone that used to hover over their heads with a sadistic rip on her face where people's mouths were, twisting in wet glee at their pain.

Sadly, it was just like it was back then. Hopeless. Twisting his hands only gave him slight rope burn, struggling against his bonds only made him feel even more powerless, and there wasn't even a loose nail he could try to discreetly use to wear the rope down into threads. It was as if he could see words floating in mid-air at the corner of his eyes, mocking him as they stated the obvious: _Your hands are bound_.

He let out a self-deriding sneer, something which could've been mistaken for a snarl.

Even worse was the fact that his struggles hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Hey, you." The ragged man in blue-cloaked armor in front of him called out. "You're finally awake."

He pointedly did his best to ignore the other man speaking, with good reason for it too. It was because of him and the others like him that he was even in this mess in the first place! Not that it was of any use, considering the blonde-haired man just continued talking.

"You were trying to cross the border, right? You walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."

Said thief, the man who was dressed in a ragged sack with holes, glared in the blonde-haired man's direction. "Damn you, Stormcloaks." He spat out. "Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell."

Honestly, there was a big part of him that agreed with the shabby-looking horse-thief. Not that he would ever say that out loud, of course. Unfortunately, his eyes met with the man wearing the ragged sack, and he could easily how much hate you had towards the other two from the looks of your eyes alone.

"You there... You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." Blondie placated, seemingly carefree despite their situation.

"Shut up back there!" The 'Imperial' that was driving the cart shouted, leaving a moment of silence stifling the air, while he himself just stared at the blonde-haired man.

Even after years of living in Skyrim, he still couldn't understand the strange and weird hair fashions around these parts. Blondie in front of him had the hair which framed the left half of his face braided, with another going down the back of his head, while the right half of his face would've been covered by the loose hair if it hadn't been frozen into clumps of strings hanging down from his head at an unnatural angle.

It wasn't long until the horse-thief broke the silence. The black-haired man with dark bags under his eyes nodded his head towards the finely dressed man gagged and bound like an animal in front of him. "And what's wrong with him, huh?"

Blondie's face took a murderous turn. "_Watch your tongue._" The blue-cloaked man in armor practically hissed, angrily. Honestly, it was the first time he and the horse-thief had seen the soldier get angry. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."

A chill ran down his spine, something which he was sure the horse-thief was feeling, too. And it had nothing to do with Skyrim's blizzard-like weather. There was only one thought that ran through his head.

'_...Shit.'_

Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm and Leader of the Rebellion against the Empire. The man who killed High King Torygg.

….and he was sitting in the same cart as the rest of them, a prisoner as much as the rest of them. This was bad.

VERY bad.

There was no way the Empire would let the man who'd challenged their authority just be locked away in prison, and there was _definitely_ no way that he'd be let free. And if they were in the same cart as someone like _him_….

He could hear the skinny, black-haired horse-thief come to the exact same conclusion at the same time. Loudly.

He could also hear the blonde-haired soldier calmingly reply to him, trying to make him settle down.

'_A Nord's last thoughts should be of home, huh?' _

He was no Nord, and home was certainly the last place he wanted to think of. Honestly, it'd been so long that he sometimes wondered if he'd actually dreamed up everything that happened in the "other world".

It would've been better if it _had_ been just a dream. Still, that was one lie that he'd never managed to buy into yet, unfortunately. Even trying to swallow that lie practically made him gag. To believe it would've been running away, and that was something that he would _never _do. That was as much a part of him as his own name, something which was such an intricate part of him that it might as well have been his Origin.

Doing so was something which would've left him _**broken**_, with whatever was left standing among the shattered pieces of himself as a pathetic remnant, with whatever creature crawling up from the ground and cracked pieces more monster than man.

-He wasn't someone that ran away.-

Life hummed in the background as they entered a medieval village. From the idle commentary that the blue-cloaked soldier was making, this was Helgen.

-He _**never **_ran away. Even though he'd known all his life that his father hated him and blamed him for his mother's death.-

The cart passed by several children who were ushered into their homes, a crowd which jeered in the background as they called for their deaths.

-He was someone who buckled down and put his nose to the grindstone, someone who pushed himself farther than anyone else. When his father had started beating him when he was 5, when his uncle Kariya had died, he never once complained.-

The jostling and movements of the cart slowed to a stop. The horse-thief, who was apparently from Rorikstead, was still complaining and muttering to himself as the blonde-haired soldier, who at one point had been "sweet on a girl" from Helgen, told him to chin up and meet his death with his head held high.

-It didn't matter how many times he plucked out shards of glass from his face after his father's latest drinking binge. It didn't matter how many broken bones he had to suffer. If his father was so worthless that he couldn't find what he was looking for in him, then he would turn to his grandfather.-

They were told to step forward to the line in front of the chopping block one at a time as their names were called. The man who'd been gagged, Jarl Ulfric of Windhelm was called first. He walked forward with his back straight and his head held high.

-If his grandfather would only look at people who had the ability to become a Magus with respect, then he would become one at all costs. It didn't matter how much the security around his father's study made him bleed. It didn't matter how much the unnatural flying worms with razor-sharp teeth that kept guard around it would come after him, hungry for his blood. He would become a Magus so strong that _everyone _would respect him. It didn't matter that he was only 6.-

The Imperial with the list called out another name, Ralof of Riverwood, and the blonde-haired soldier with the blue-cloaked cuirass followed his leader towards the line leading to the chopping block.

-His younger sister, Sakura, was the only light in his life. She cleaned his wounds after he plucked out the shards of glass from his face. She set his bones after they were broken and convinced his grandfather to use his magecraft to heal him. She was the one who had tears in her eyes as she cheered him on in his studies of magecraft to be more useful to their grandfather. And because of all of that, he gave her everything that had ever been denied to him. It didn't matter that he'd only known her for 2 years, or that she'd only been his sister since he was 5. She was his light, his sister, and he loved her and would always protect her. Especially since her old family had abandoned her to this one.-

The horse-thief, Lokir of Rorikstead, was called. Instead of following the other two, he'd chosen to run instead and had gotten shot down by the archers standing by them. The ground seemed to eagerly drink up his blood as it fled from his dying, gasping body like water through a hole in a bucket.

-He'd seen his younger sister follow their grandfather into the room that he called his workshop. Heart pounding, blood rushing through his veins, and with a feeling that his stomach was going to be turned inside-out, he'd followed them. But just as he'd opened the door, light seared into his eyes, burning into his skull as if someone had taken a blowtorch to his eyeballs. That sick feeling in his stomach finally twisted and ripped inside-out, like someone had used a fishing hook and reeled his insides out through his mouth, and suddenly there was snow. It didn't matter if he was only 8 years old. He'd been dragged to a place he'd later find out was called _Skyrim_.-

And finally, he was the last one from his cart. They stared at him with confusion in their eyes, before calling him up.

-He had always been a proud kid. Now, he'd grown up and become a proud man. He would never run away. He would always do what needed to be done. He was-

"Who," The Nord man in Imperial light armor began, "are you?"

"**Shinji Matou."**

* * *

Author's Note:

For those of you that know a little bit about Skyrim, I want to ask you 2 questions:

1) What race do you think people in Skyrim would think Shinji is? He's part Russian, which would explain racial ties to the Imperials and the Nords. On the other hand, he's also part Japanese, which could be stretched to say that he's half-mer (which means Breton, basically).

I'm not actually going to have the Divines from Tamriel change his race. He'll still be Russian/Japanese, but this will basically be what the people in Skyrim think he is.

2) Should I follow Hadvar or Ralof?

Shinji doesn't like Ralof because he's part of the Stormcloaks who got him into this mess. On the other hand, I can't see him liking Hadvar either, because he's part of the faction that tried to execute him even though he's done nothing wrong.

There'll be more action in the next chapter.

SPOILER: Huge, giant dragon


	3. Chapter 2: Dovah and Dovahkiin

**Author's Note: **

**Should I move this from the "Crossover" Category to the "Regular" Category? I'm not exactly sure if this will get a lot of views if it just stays in the "Crossovers" section.**

* * *

The man with the list arched an eyebrow. "Shin-ji? What kind of a name is that? Were you raised by Khajiit? I met one named Ma'randru-jo, once. Their kind are always getting themselves into trouble." Curiosity overtook him as he eyed the top of Shinji's head. "Did you have a run-in with a mage? It's not normal for a man to be walking around with purple hair."

It was more than obvious to Shinji that it was just a passing curiosity, though. The man in brown leather armor didn't even bother to see if he'd respond.

Double-checking his clipboard and shaking his head, he turned to the woman in gleaming heavy steel armor next to him. "Captain, what should we do? He's not on the list."

The dark-skinned woman just stared at the Nord man like he was an idiot. "Forget the list." She said derisively. "He goes to the block like the rest of them!"

The Nord nodded to her. "By your orders, Captain." The light-skinned man turned to face Shinji again. "I'm sorry, kinsman. At least you'll die here, in your homeland." He said with an apologetic tone.

Shinji snorted at that, something which the man clearly didn't appreciate as his tone hardened. "Follow the Captain, _prisoner_."

The woman clad in steel armor, the Captain, started moving towards the execution grounds to her right. With each step her armored boots clanged on the ground.

Clang. Clang. CLANG.

Every step pounded into the ground like the way Shinji's heart was practically pounding its way out of his chest.

He didn't like this situation one bit. It didn't matter if he liked it though. The horse-thief, Lokir of Rorikstead, already proved what would happen if he were to try to escape. Archers turning his body into a pincushion, with arrows knifing into his back like a _coward_.

Shinji wasn't a Nord. He was as far from it as you could get, considering he was from another _world _altogether, even if his Russian blood helped him thrive in this cold weather just like any of the natives here. Still, he'd grown up here. He'd spent 8 years in Skyrim and another 2 abroad in Cyrodiil before he'd been captured crossing the border on the way back to Skyrim. He'd been here longer than he'd been on Earth. Shinji was _just as much _a Nord as anyone else born here.

AND HE WOULD NOT DIE A BLOODY COWARD'S DEATH!

Taking in a deep breath, Shinji turned to follow the Captain to his fate, joining the group of prisoners and Imperials that surrounded it.

A quick glance around showed a few familiar faces.

Blondie, who he now knew was _Ralof of Riverwood_, stood to his left, bound and waiting his turn to die just like the rest of them.

A middle-aged Imperial with gray hair who wore light armor that was gilded in gold, a red cape pinned to his back with clasps around his neck and a steel sword that was _clearly _above standard issue belted to his side. He was _General Tullius_ of the Imperial Army, as Ralof had mentioned on the way here.

He was also standing in front of the whole reason why Shinji was in this mess in the first place.

_Ulfric Stormcloak._ The Jarl of Windhelm, Leader of the _Sons of Skyrim,_ the Rebellion against the Empire. A man who was dressed in fine clothing and furs, but was also gagged like an animal. If he hadn't murdered the High King, if he hadn't been the leader of the rebellion, _**if his path hadn't crossed your's then you wouldn't be about to die!**_

Shinji blinked, the rising hate for the man disappearing as fast as it came, before his gaze drifted.

The Captain had gone to the center of the huge circle they'd all made, the outer edges surrounded by guards and archers. Standing next to her was a woman who clearly a priestess of one of the 9 Divines of Tamriel (even if the Empire had banned Talos worship and proclaimed only 8 of them as real, in accordance with the treaty they'd signed with the Elves at the end of the Great War, Shinji still thought of them as the 9 Divines), and someone who would most likely be the last person he'd see: the executioner with his tall, sharp and gleaming axe.

"Ulfric Stormcloak."

Shinji's gaze snapped towards the voice. General Tullius was now speaking to the gagged Jarl.

"Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his King and usurp the throne."

The growl from the leader of the Rebellion was muffled, due to the fact that he was still gagged.

"You started this war, flung Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace."

Suddenly, a distant roar rumbled, its sound echoing all the way to the execution grounds. General Tullius turned his head to look around, along with many of the other people there. The one with the list, _Hadvar_, spoke up.

"What was that?"

The man in the red cape looked more annoyed than anything else. "It was nothing. Carry on." General Tullius snapped.

Everyone around them snapped to attention. The Captain nodded, her centurion-style helmet bobbing with it. "Yes, General Tullius!"

It didn't matter, though. Not to Shinji anyway. He didn't notice when the first person had been executed, with Ralof commenting on his bravery as he stood next to the purple-haired man. He barely even noticed when he was told to step forward to the chopping block, his legs automatically carrying him forward without a thought.

As soon as that _roar _rang out, there was something inside of him _that roared back! _

His body was tense as a board, even as he kneeled with his torso lay flat on the chopping block, his neck an open invitation to the executioner's axe. Unknown to everyone there, deep inside Shinji's soul, something sparked to life. Spark met kindling, **bursting into flames!**

An ancient _Sorcery_ trait activated, and _**Inheritor **_met _**Inheritance**_.

His body _thrummed_, flooding with power. His light purple eyes starting to emanate a peculiar light as the nearby pebbles and fallen leaves shook.

It didn't matter if his body didn't have any Magic Circuits. Only _human_ souls needed those to do magecraft.

And as a giant, colossal being landed on top of the tower, spewing fire and burning the village and its people alive, _one word rang out from his soul and the throats of the townsfolk._

_**DRAGON!**_

* * *

_"And the Scrolls have foretold of Black Wings in the Cold, That When Brothers Wage War Come Unfurled! Alduin, Bane of Kings, Ancient Shadow Unbound, With a Hunger to Swallow the World!"_

-Song of the Dragonborn

* * *

It was _impossible_.

_**A Dragon, black as the night, with eyes so red that it looked as if they'd been bathed in the blood of the world countless times. A wingspan that looked as if it could cover half of the village if outstretched.**_

With a single Shout, the Dragon had conjured an unholy _storm! _Fire rained down from the skies, lightning struck their unfortunate victims, and hail the size of _people _speared down!

Amidst the terrified screams of the townspeople, General Tullius snapped to action. No matter what else he was, Thalmor supporter, Leader of the Imperial Army, and the Emperor's Representative, he was _**first and foremost**_ the _**Protector of Skyrim!**_

"Guards!" He yelled out, the authority that rang out in his voice somehow rising above the chaos of the burning town and the roars of the dragon. "Get the townsfolk to safety. NOW!"

While everyone else was distracted, Shinji felt himself being lifted up from the chopping block. Turning his head, he could see Blondie, _Ralof of Riverwood_, standing there grabbing him. "Come on, kinsman!" He urged, the Stormcloak leather armor practically rippling in what seemed like hurricane-level winds made from the dragon's wingbeats. "The guards won't give us another chance! This way!"

Shinji followed him into a nearby tower, the door closing somewhere behind him, taking refuge in whatever pathetic defense the stone walls of the tower could provide. Any ordinary man would be cowering in fear at that moment.

Not him, though.

He didn't know why, but adrenaline was coursing through his veins, flooding his body with more energy than he ever had before!

"Jarl Ulfric!" Ralof said, turning to the man. Shinji noticed that he'd managed to find a dagger in the tower to unbind his own hands and was moving forward with it to unbind the Jarl's.

Honestly, Shinji had never even noticed him following behind the two of you, or the fact that the door had closed behind _him_ and not you.

"What _is _that thing? Could the legends be true?"

Ulfric, now with his hands free, reached up to the back of his head to undo a knot, spitting out the gag that it had held out to the side. "_Legends_ don't burn down villages." He said in a dark, matter-of-fact tone.

Shinji just stared at the two of them, holding out his _still bound _hands towards them, before realizing that they'd been so caught up in their conversation that they'd forgotten about him!

Before he could say anything though, a roar shook the tower. Small pieces of stone fell from somewhere above their heads to the floor they were standing on as all of their faces paled.

"We need to move. Now!" Ralof yelled out. The Stormcloak soldier ran up the stairs, Shinji needing no convincing at all to follow him up the flights of stone steps.

When they got to the 2nd flight of steps though, things took a turn for the worse.

With a _BOOM!_, part of the stone wall collapsed and caved in, and _the Dragon's head was there_.

Shinji could've sworn he heard words amidst the Dragon's rumbling shout, right before fire spewed from its mouth!

Hands still bound, he somehow managed to grab Ralof and drag him backwards against the wall with him, the flames sliding past them and shooting down towards the first floor. The fire might not have reached them but the heat still blistered their skin, their bodies practically being cooked and charred.

Shinji imagined it must've been what the idiots that jumped into lava must've felt like. The scant 2 seconds before they died anyway.

Despite the pain, neither of the 2 let out a sound, hoping the Dragon wouldn't realize that they were there and would just leave.

Unknown to Shinji, Ralof was shivering at that exact moment. Not from the Dragon and _definitely_ not from the heat of its breath. It was from the sick, twisted grin that was cracked open on his fellow Nord's face, excitement and _glee_ shining from it the way the sun shone off of the reflection of a pool of water.

'_This lad's damn insane.' _He realized.

Thank the Divines, the Dragon didn't seem that interested in what was inside the tower as it quickly snapped its jaws shut and flew off to terrorize another part of the village.

Ralof shook his head free from the thoughts that plagued his mind and dragged his savior to the opening as he pointed to the building next door. "See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going! We'll follow when we can!" He yelled out, his voice barely managing to be heard through the sounds of destruction running throughout the village.

The man quickly ran back down the stairs to check on his Jarl and the other members of the Rebellion.

Shinji looked down at the other side, a building that was charred and ruined by fire, more than half of it having already been destroyed. Luckily for him, the half of the roof that was destroyed was also the one facing the tower, which would let him jump straight down to the 2nd story of the building.

'_This almost feels like one of those video games.' _Shinji smirked. '_Press triangle to jump.' _He amusingly thought to himself, jumping straight through the embers of the remnants of the roof, the ashen air he breathed in on the way there almost seeming to invigorate him.

"Nngh!" He let out a muffled grunt, having hit part of the collapsed roof that was still burning on his way down to the 2nd floor of the inn.

It'd be fine. Perhaps it was because he'd been dragged to a world that was still in the Age of the Gods, but after being here for more than 10 years, Shinji knew that with enough time he could recover from almost anything.

Running past beds that were strangely unharmed by all of the chaos and destruction, he reached a part of the 2nd story that was destroyed, having holes that led to the first floor. Jumping through, he could hear a familiar voice calling out to someone in the near distance, outside the walls of the inn.

"Just walk slowly towards me. It'll be fine, just don't look up!"

Walking out of the inn, he saw the same guard with the list from before. _Hadvar_, with his list long since gone missing, was crouched behind the remains of a house, trying to coax a child to get out from the open street and to safety.

The child walked slowly towards him.

"You're doing great, son. Just keep it...up." Hadvar stuttered, as the Dragon landed right behind the boy. "Hemming, _**YOU NEED TO RUN NOW!**_"

Scared and shaken by the urgency in his voice, the boy somehow managed to run towards the Imperial Guard, enough so that he could quickly grab his outstretched hand, yanking him off his feet and towards himself, before pushing him off towards the side. Right on time as the ebony Dragon spewed forth its flames once more, melting the cobblestone street to slag and immolating part of the house that the guard had been hiding behind to embers.

The Dragon flew off, gone to attack another part of the village, no doubt.

Hadvar noticed Shinji out of the corner of his eye. "Still alive, prisoner? Stay close if you want to survive." He passed the boy off to his comrade who was beside him. "Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and aid their defense. You," he nodded towards Shinji. "With me. Let's go!"

With that, the Nordic Imperial quickly took off with his sword drawn, Shinji sprinting right after him with only a slight hesitation at following the man that had so easily consigned him to his death not too long ago. Neither of them managed to hear the reply that Hadvar's companion gave, the dirt and gravel path giving way to stone as they neared one of the battlements.

"Stay close to the wall!" Hadvar called out behind him as the two of them ducked into an alley, sandwiched between the smoking ruins of a house that only had its stone foundations still standing and a rock wall.

It was a good thing he'd quickly followed Hadvar's orders. As soon as he'd sprinted into the alley and flattened himself alongside the wall, the Dragon, in all its dark glory, perched itself on top of it and _**roared**_, the flames licking the edges of his skin as it rushed past him.

'_There it is again!' _The purple-haired prisoner thought to himself. Right when the dragon roared, Shinji could've _sworn_ it'd said something! He knew it, because he could almost feel something in his chest rumble at the words that it said, thrumming with the magic that he could feel emanating from the Phantasmal Beast.

The black dragon flew off, with Hadvar quickly running down the street that the dragon had just devastated. It went without saying that Shinji followed his captor down the cobblestone path. Slag and blackened timber, embers and ashes were all that was left of the street that he passed down. The bound man slowed to a pause as he noticed a charred corpse of one of the Imperial Army's men which hadn't been as badly burnt as the others.

'_Maybe…' _He eyed the dead body. Crouching down, he quickly rifled through the corpse's belongings as fast and as efficiently as a man whose hands were lashed together could.

Which was, to say, not very well at all.

If he could just find something sharp, _anything _at all, then maybe he could finally free his hands. Nobody wanted to be tied up and unable to defend themselves in a dragon attack!

The ground suddenly shook, right before he heard another roar.

'_Aw damn it Oblivion!' _He cursed, right before he was sent flying in an awkward tumble through the air, miraculously managing not to hit anything but the ground.

Shinji grunted, more from the fact that he'd had the breath knocked out of him than any pain. His body had toughened up in the 10 years he'd been in Tamriel, things that would have slashed open his skin and broken his bones in his old world only managing to leave a bruise and some scratches.

He chalked it up to a mix of the fact that humans really did seem to be a lot hardier during the Age of Gods, and the fact that his body had a decent amount of muscle to protect him.

Pushing himself to a kneeling position with his _still bound_ hands, he was able to get back up to his feet in a matter of moments. He growled in frustration though, when he saw that the body he'd been trying to loot was now nowhere in sight.

'_No choice then.' _At this point, his legs were starting to feel the strain, having jumped from a tower into the roof of a nearby building and being in a non-stop sprint since was already taking its toll on him. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't exactly in the best of shape since he'd been captured and beaten unconscious before ending up in that cart in the first place. Still, Shinji pushed through, sprinting once more after Hadvar.

"By Ysmir, nothing kills it!" Cried out one of the Imperial soldiers in fear and desperation as the purple-haired prisoner burst through the open doorway of a ruined house.

The otherworlder looked around, trying to spot Hadvar among the Imperial mages and Soldiers that were bunched up. Interestingly enough, he immediately spotted General Tullius amongst the crowd.

Shinji ducked back into the house as the dragon made an overhead pass, white hot heat streaming from its jaws as it flew by, before poking his head out again. 3 of the soldiers were now dead, their final expressions of twisted agony forever charred into their corpses. The mages shot out blast of spell after spell, fireballs flying after the giant monstrosity. Lightning seared and shards of ice flew from their hands, but it was obvious that it was no use at all.

"Enough of this!" The gold-clad General yelled out over the roar of the battle. "We're leaving. Everyone to the keep!"

Not everyone heeded his words. Despite the fact that they were all seasoned and battle-hardened warriors, some were clearly lost in the rage of battle. Their eyes were glazed over with hatred as they kept screaming at their flying enemy, the desecrated corpses of their friends laying nearby. Fortunately, those that had lost themselves were few in number, with the rest of them snapping to attention and following their leaders orders.

"Prisoner!"

Shinji snapped to his head, following the voice. There was only one man who could say it in that exact annoying tone.

Hadvar stood off to the side, gesturing with his head down what must've once been a main street. "With me! Into the Keep!"

He didn't need any further encouragement at all. With the way things were, he didn't want to end up barbecued as the dragon's next victim. Brushing past the General on his way, he followed Hadvar down the street to the giant stone fortress.

Passing under the ruins of what must've been an overhead bridge, Shinji quickly realized that shadow he was under was too big for a small and thin bridge like the one that he'd just gotten out from under.

There was only a split-second between him seeing the dragon perched on top of a ruined wall near the Keep and his thought of '_Gods Dammit!' _before he was sent flying again from the force of the dragon's roar.

This time, he cartwheeled straight into one of the walls surrounding the stone fortress. The impact jarred his head, making his vision blurry and having him see stars.

Shinji blinked away the blurriness from his eyes, the world slowly coming back into focus as he stood back up. What was immediately obvious to him this time was that the dragon had flown off again. '_Not for long though. With the way things are going, I'll see him again in practically a few seconds. I've gotta get into that Keep!'_

He was also just in time to see his two _favorite _people in the world cross paths.

"Ralof, you damned traitor!" The Nordic Imperial clad in light-armor seethed. "Outta my way!" He said heatedly.

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time." Ralof replied with a steady edge to his voice.

"Fine!" Hadvar spat. "I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!"

The two of them glared at each other as they passed by, heading to doors on opposite sides of the keep. The both of them stopped and called out to him just as they reached their separate entrances.

"Over here, Prisoner!"

"Come on, we've got to get inside NOW!"

Shinji stared, his head going back and forth between Hadvar and Ralof. It was as if the world suddenly paused, and he could feel that this whatever choice he made, it would put a long chain of events in motion.

'_Gods DAMMIT! Isn't there a 3rd option? I hate the both of them SO MUCH!' _He screamed inside his head.

On the one hand was Hadvar, waving to him frantically from an entrance close by the tattered flag of the Keep. He'd risked his life to save a little boy from turning to ash and showed loyalty by supporting General Tullius even though it was obvious that none of their attacks were hurting the dragon.

He's also part of the group that tried to execute him despite the fact that Shinji didn't have anything to do with the rebellion at this point. Not only that, the arse didn't even have the decency to call him by his freaking name, even though he'd already told him that his name was Shinji! It was always just '_Prisoner!' _with this guy.

On the other hand was Ralof. He was the one who literally picked you up off the chopping block and rushed you into the tower away from the dragon when it attacked. He tried to make sure you survived, even though you only knew each other from the cart ride into Helgen.

He was also part of the group that was the whole reason Shinji was stuck in this mess in the first place!

As if sensing his hesitation Ralof called out to him again. "I can cut you free once we're inside. Let's go!"

And with that, Shinji was able to quickly make up his mind and ran off to join Ralof. It was too bad, if he'd been a little slower he'd have been able to hear Hadvar yell out, "Where are you going? The Barracks is this way!"

It was something that definitely would've swayed him back to the Nordic Imperial's side as the promise of armor and weaponry would've been too much to pass up. It was really too bad that Shinji had been too eager to get his hands free and had sprinted too fast towards Ralof to hear Hadvar's last words to him.

* * *

**Omake: Easy Skill-leveling Glitch**

"Hah! I knew it!" Shinji yelled out. "I _am _in that Skyrim game! Even that easy One-Handed Weaponry Skill-Leveling glitch is working!"

The purple-haired magus was, at that moment, at the exit to a cave that had somehow led into the Keep. He and Ralof had just snuck by a sleeping bear when he realized why everything had seemed so familiar. It was just like the video-game he'd once played!

Ralof was crouched in front of him, and neither he nor the bear gave any indication that they'd heard what Shinji had said. Then again, Shinji had been hacking his sword at Ralof's back for the past few minutes now with the man only giving out grunts and yelps, along with a seemingly endless amount of blood which kept spraying out with each hit.

[One-Handed Mastery Skill leveled up to 21]

"Now I just have to keep doing this for a little while longer."

9 hours later….

Breath leaving out in gasps, with his chest heaving from the effort, Shinji somehow managed to throw out one last swing of his sword.

[One-Handed Mastery Skill leveled up to 99]

"Heh. Hehe, hahahaha." Shinji guffawed as he collapsed into a heap on the damp, cave floor. "It was _so _worth it."

* * *

**Author's Note: **

**So in the end, I chose Ralof for Shinji. I hate both choices, and I'm pretty sure Shinji would hate both of them as well, but since you have to pick one of them in the game I just went with what first popped into my head. **

**Funny enough, I actually found another glitch while doing all of this. From the tower that Ralof leads you into when Alduin first attacks, right after he tells you to jump across to the building on the other side of the hole, is where you can find it. Instead of jumping across like he wants you to, just walk straight off the edge. There's an invisible platform between the two buildings (which isn't really big but you can still land on it most of the time). You'll find yourself standing between the two buildings in mid-air, with just enough room to jump into the building you were supposed to anyway. Pretty sure it was there for any gamers who failed their initial jump, lol.**

**Now, for those of you who've played the game and know what comes next, should I write what happens in the Keep or should I skip to the Standing Stones?**

You can all feel free to comment if you've got something to say or noticed something I could be doing better.

**Next Release:**** The Fox that Became a Dragon (by 9/13)**


	4. Chapter 3: Into the Keep

**Chapter 3: Into the Keep**

* * *

Walking into the keep, the first thing Shinji noticed was Ralof kneeling over someone's corpse.

The Nord closed his fallen comrade's eyes. "We'll meet again in Sovngarde, brother." He stood up and turned to look at Shinji. "Looks like we're the only ones who made it. That thing outside was a dragon, no doubt. Just like the children's stories and the legends. The harbingers of the end times."

"Hmph. What clued it in for you? Was it the fact that it was big, flying and breathing fire?" Shinji said sarcastically. What else could it have been other than a dragon? Any kid from his old world would've been able to recognize it if they saw it.

Something flickered in the other man's eyes at Shinji's tone, before he glanced back towards the door they'd gone through, nervously. Anyone would've been nervous, knowing there was a living, breathing _dragon _on the other side of it. "We better get moving. Come here, let me see if I can get those bindings off."

It took less than a few seconds for him to get the ropes binding the blue-haired Russian's hands off. "Finally! You couldn't have done that earlier at the tower? I had to jump out of there with my hands bound!" He said, rubbing his chafed wrists.

Ralof rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Well, to be honest, I kind of forgot about it. Plus we had that dragon break into that tower and breathe down fire, so we didn't have a lot of time. Besides," He said, clapping Shinji on the shoulder. "Now you'll have a story to tell your kids one day. Show'em you're not some milk drinker." The Stormcloak laughed uproariously.

It didn't last long. They were in a dark, moldy keep with a dragon that might break down the walls at any time and eat them.

The laughter died fast.

"You might as well take Gunjar's gear." Ralof nodded to the dead body. "He won't be needing it anymore."

It wasn't Shinji's first time looting a corpse. At this point, he was so used to it that he was able to make a quick survey of what he could possibly take from the body: an Iron War Axe, a Stormcloak Cuirass, and some Fur Boots.

He took them all. He'd need it all.

Even though it all came easy to him now, it didn't used to be that way. As he quickly stripped the corpse and equipped everything, Shinji snorted at the memory of his first time doing this. He'd almost thrown up, and had to pretend that he was in some _video game_ just to get on with it.

**Press X to loot the body.**

...It'd helped.

"Give that axe a few swings," Ralof said, snapping Shinji out of his reverie. "I'm going to go see if I can find some way out of here."

"I know how to swing an axe." Shinji snapped back indignantly.

The older man didn't bother saying anything back. Seeing this, the former 20th-century kid took a few swings anyway.

It couldn't hurt to get used to an axe again, and it's not like he was actually following the man's orders or anything like that.

Ralof rattled the nearby gate and cursed. "This one's locked. Let's see about the other one." Striding over to the one directly across from where he was, the rebel quickly realized it was no use. "This one's no good either. No way to open this from our side."

The sounds of boots suddenly filled the room, coming from behind the locked gate. "Come on, keep moving!" A woman's voice called out.

"It's the Imperials. Take cover!" The Stormcloak Rebel hissed.

He and Ralof took to the left and right of the gate, just out of sight of the Imperials that were heading their way.

"Get this gate open!" The voice from the other side commanded. The gate quickly withdrew into the ground.

As soon as the first person tried to enter the room, Ralof attacked. "Freedom or Sovngarde!"

Following his lead, Shinji leaped into the fray, only to be confronted with a familiar face…. The Imperial captain that had sentenced him to die.

He grinned. "I'm gonna enjoy this." Ignoring Ralof's own battle, but making sure to keep an eye on it just in case it looked like the Blondie was losing, Shinji swung his axe down onto the Imperial woman in heavy armour.

...It was too bad that he'd been so distracted by the fact that he was about to get revenge, that he didn't notice the other Imperial Army soldier coming in from the side.

The man bashed him with the shield, the metal from it bruising Shinji's face, punishing him for even daring to try a power strike against his captain.

Oddly enough though, that blow was enough to clear the Russian's head. As another bash came towards him, he moved to the side, chopping down hard onto his opponent's outstretched arm. LIke a hot knife through butter, the axe cut cleanly through flesh, muscle and bone, disarming the man.

The soldier didn't even have time to scream as Shinji _whirled_ and sent his axe slicing through his neck.

The blood spurting like a fountain drenched the Imperial Captain that the soldier had been protecting, her heavy armor bathed in its red. Slowly looking down at the headless corpse, her eyes came back up, blazing. "You're gonna _**pay **_for that!"

He just smirked. "Try and make me, woman." Cockiness aside, Shinji was more on guard with her than he'd been with the soldier. _She _was wearing a full set of Imperial-Standard heavy metal armor. There was no way that he'd be chopping parts off of her any time soon.

He doubted that his Stormcloak cuirass would hold off any heavy hits that she made with her sword.

"Hiyah!" The captain slashed, forcing Shinji to retreat. She was relentless though, keeping up a barrage of strikes which kept him on his backfoot.

'_Would've been better if I'd could've gotten that shield off of the corpse."_

There was nothing he could do about it now, though.

Raising her sword high, Shinji saw that she was going for an overhead power strike.

'_Only got one shot at this' _He thought to himself as his back hit the wall.

As the blade came down, he raised his axe with both hands and _blocked_.

It wasn't easy. The axe's blade was curved and the weapon was only meant to be wielded one-handed.

Sparks flew as the weapons grinded against each other, Shinji having to readjust his grip every couple seconds to make sure that the sword wouldn't just slide off the axe's blade and chop off his fingers.

'_Right… NOW!' _

On Earth, there was only ever one thing that Shinji had ever strived to become. No matter how much he struggled, no matter how hard it worked, everything always ended up in smoke, reminding him of how pathetic he was.

Now, on Tamriel, as he pushed the Imperial Captain's blade back and left her off-balance, everything went up in smoke.

And Shinji _grinned_.

Fire burst from his left hand in a stream, his _Flames_ spell splashing the captain with raging fire.

It wasn't normally an attack spell. It was a spell that most people used to start campfires or slowly cook food with, mainly because it never did much damage. Something about the natural aura that almost all things produced mitigated the damage that the supernatural flames would deal.

The captain's screams echoed hauntingly as she furiously took blind swipes in his direction. Having moved away from being between her and the wall, Shinji was able to back away and keep enough space between them as his flames spell slowly heated her up. Shinji knew from personal experience that even if humans were hardier in the Age of the Gods and could easily survive being set on fire, you'd still die eventually if it wasn't put out.

And Shinji wasn't about to let up, either.

His smile wouldn't leave his face. Even if it was just the most basic spell that everyone who left the city knew, _he'd done magic!_

'_Even though Grandpa would probably call it Magecraft instead.' _Shinji thought to himself. He also didn't care. Just being able to do anything magic-related always brought a smile to his face.

As the screams died down and the captain dropped dead, he looked over to Ralof, who was staring at him uneasily.

"Ehm." The Nord cleared his throat. "One of them probably had the key." He leaned down to check the body of the nearest of the three slain. '_The boy's a_ _**mage**__, and he's damn __**insane!**_' Ralof came to a decision as he found the key in one of the pockets that he was searching. He definitely wasn't going to stick around the boy any longer than he had to. First chance he got, he'd split. "Here we are, found a key. Let's see if it'll open that door."

Ralof strode over to the first gate he'd tried to get open earlier. The key fit in the lock and turned easily. For a moment, he was tempted to quickly shut the gate behind him and trap the mage.

Only for a moment though, as he realized that there might be more Imperials ahead of them. That, and he doubted something like a lock would stop a furious mage.

The door swung open.

"Come on! Let's get out of here before that dragon brings the whole tower down on our heads." Ralof rushed through, leaving Shinji behind with the corpses.

Pausing, the blue-haired magus looked around, quickly eyeballing and counting up everything he'd be able to loot from the bodies.

There was obviously the leather armor from the soldiers and the iron armor from the captain, but that was a no-go. It wouldn't be a good idea to look like an Imperial if they met up with more of Ralof's friends, he mused. Although… maybe just grabbing the helmet would be fine.

That left the swords and the shield. He _could_ dual-wield, but magic had already saved his life once. The shield on the other hand…

It came with him, strapped to his back. If he needed it, it'd be there. If he didn't need it, he'd still have a hand free to use the _Flames _spell again.

He headed through the gate that Ralof had opened, casting a glance back at where the Imperials had come from. There was a small part of Shinji that wanted to go back and see if there was anything of value there to loot, but he quashed that idea quickly.

Ralof had been right. There was no telling when the whole place would come crashing down on them all.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

No excuses, I actually had this done for awhile. I originally wanted to make this chapter a bit longer, but this'll have to do for now. With any luck, I'll have the next chapter posted some time this week.

No Omake this time, but I might do it for the next chapter.

Hope all of you are finding ways to survive the Coronavirus pandemic. Stay healthy and take precautions everyone!


	5. Chapter 4: Survival of the Fittest

Shinji followed Ralof as they hustled down the stairs from the unlocked gate.

'_Wait,' _Shinji thought to himself, his eyebrows furrowing. '_Why am I following Ralof? __**He **__should be following __**me!**_' With that thought in mind, the blue-haired 16 year old put on extra speed and outpaced the older veteran. Shinji smirked, having easily proven that he was better than the blonde Nord and was worthy of leadership.

Behind him though, Ralof just shook his head exasperatedly at the antics of the younger Nord. '_When did I sign up to take care of anklebiters that haven't even grown old enough to be weaned?' _Unknown to him though, Shinji's actions had softened the man's wariness towards him to a degree. Maybe it wasn't that the boy was crazy or insane, but that he still had a youth's eagerness to prove himself to the world. The corners of his mouth turned upwards as it made him recall many of the foolish things he'd done in his youth to try and make a name for himself, long before the rebellion had happened.

The boy was still a mage, though, and that was always a good sign to be wary. Still, that wasn't enough of a reason to start thinking that he might have to abandon him later on.

As they stepped off of the stairs and came into a long hallway, Ralof's experienced eyes spotted an almost unnoticeable tremor in the ceiling. Quickly snapping to attention, he put on a burst of speed. "Look out!" He yelled, managing to reach Shinji and pull him back, right as a dragon's _roar_ shook the world.

The whole ceiling in front of them collapsed, burying the middle of the hallway in rock and rubble from the upper layers of the keep.

"Damn! That dragon doesn't give up easy." Ralof cursed, seeing the way forward blocked. "Doesn't matter. Come on, follow me." He turned to his left, where another door lay. Behind him though, a younger man grit his teeth and clenched his fist as the Stormcloak once again took the lead. This time though, Shinji made no move to foolishly rush ahead.

If there had been anyone that had known Shinji from his time on Earth, or even any who had known practically _any _of his parallel selves or analogues, their eyebrows would have rocketed upwards as their jaws dropped at the sight.

_**Shinji Matou**_ willingly and consciously, with no complaint or threat of death from the other person, buried his pride and followed along.

2 shadows danced in the light coming from underneath the door that they were facing.

Ralof, experienced adventurer that he was, flattened himself against the wall, turning to Shinji with a finger raised to his lips. He opened the door slowly, making sure that if the hinges squeaked, it wouldn't be loud enough to draw attention.

Voices echoed out from the room.

"Gather everything important and let's move!" A brisk, authoritative voice rang out. "Dragon's burning to the ground."

Shinji strained his ears. The footsteps coming from inside the room were only enough for two people.

"I just need to gather some more potions." A young voice answered back to the other.

Quick, rushed sounds echoed out. Shinji silently slid the shield that was on his back onto his off-hand. From what he could see inside of the room, there wasn't going to be nearly enough space to use any spells without somehow setting his… _companion_ on fire as well. His right hand grabbed the haft of his axe, arm poised to ready his weapon, before he paused. Biting his lip, he glanced towards Ralof.

Shinji's eyes met his, and reluctantly, a silent question was posed.

The other man had sweat, been frozen by the icy winds of Skyrim, before being roasted alive by the flames of one of the strongest types of Phantasmal Beasts there was. Yet somehow, the Stormcloak's blonde, braided hair was still almost completely intact. There was no sign of it even being anywhere in danger of falling off the man's head anytime soon, even as it flopped up and landed back down as Ralof gave a curt nod.

The fierce warrior slammed the door open as he rushed inside, candle-light gleaming on the edge of his axe. "**Victory, or Sovngarde!"** Roared out of his mouth, stunning the two Imperial soldiers within.

As Shinji followed in on Ralof's heels, he got his first glimpse of the two that had been in the midst of packing.

A gruff, scarred veteran who was clad in battleworn heavy armor and wielded a sword and shield. The shock hadn't stopped him for long as he was already fending off Ralof with a nasty snarl on his face.

The other was a young man, no… a _boy_, who looked to be almost the same age as Shinji. His pale skin was matted with sweat, eyes open wide in fear at the sight of the two "savages" who'd come roaring into the room with weapons raised. It was obvious that he was a new Imperial recruit, just from the fact that he was still skinny and yet to put on any muscle from even basic training. Even farmers had more muscle than he did, which made it _oh so clear_ that he was most likely just a son of a recently deceased, and more than likely recently impoverished, noble from Cyrodiil. The boy with toothpicks for arms dropped the packs in his hands, a heavy _clunk_ coming from both as they landed on the ground. Quick as a whistle, the boy held an iron sword in front of him, clutching it shakily like it was his last bastion of defense against Shinji. "S-Stay back!" He yelled out to Shinji, pointing his sword towards the "savage intruder". "I-I'm warning you, I know how to use this!"

Readying his weapon, Shinji armed himself. In his off-hand he held the shield of one of his former captors. That which was once used in defense of those who'd tried to execute him was now being used to protect him. In his main hand he held the axe of the fallen Gunjar, who'd fought the Imperials until his dying breath to protect what he saw were the freedoms of his people who were being stripped of their very culture itself. Clad in the light armor of the Stormcloaks, the very faction that had dragged him into the mess where he was going to be executed in the first place.

Shinji was a walking contradiction. Nothing about him made any sense at all. Shielded by that which was once his enemies', clad in the garb of the rebels who he hadn't known even existed before, and armed with the weapon of the fallen who'd died fighting against what they perceived as injustice.

It didn't matter though. It didn't matter how much of a walking contradiction he was, all that mattered was the next step. The next spot that his foot would tread as he kept going, onto whatever lay in the future.

….or so that was how it was supposed to be.

Looking at the trembling Imperial Soldier in front of him, Shinji _hesitated_. The other man's slim muscles completely outlined as they strained to keep the weapon aloft and pointed at him, mouth open wide as he took in deep breaths.

The purple-haired man shook his head in disgust. The person standing before him wasn't a threat. Even though they were roughly the same age, it was obvious that their lives were completely different. Shinji had fought tooth and nail to be where he was today. To even survive in a world that was still in the Age of the Gods, he'd put his life on the line time and time again. Most days it wasn't even the animals or the vicious monsters that threatened his life but starvation itself.

The eyes staring back at him showed none of the signs of having done anything more strenuous than opening a book to _read_ about the lives of people like Shinji.

Snorting, he turned and stepped towards where Ralof was locked in a stalemate against his opponent.

Eyes flickered towards him as the sound of his footsteps reached their ears. The gruff veteran in heavy armor batted away the incoming assault from Ralof with his shield, thrusting his sword towards the now-open flank in an attempt to quickly finish off his enemy, only to pull back at the sight of an overhead strike from Shinji that would've chopped off his sword-hand. The man grimaced, his scarred face becoming even fiercer. "Tienan! What are you doing, you good-for-nothing layabout!" The other Imperial shook at the dark tone in the older man's voice. "You swore loyalty to the Empire! Your family swore an oath to safeguard the safety of the lands! Are you going to sit there and wait to be _slaughtered_?"

There was no answer from the quivering noble. None at all.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**This was as far as I'd gotten so far. Honestly, it's only half of what I'd originally planned for it to be, but I thought it'd be better to just release it than to keep all of you waiting for however long it took for me to finish it.**

**In other news, I just lost my job due to the pandemic. My boss made up a bunch of BS just to get me fired. Wasn't in a good place until today. Hope all of you are doing better than I am.**

**Lastly, I'm thinking of setting up a Pat reon (wasn't sure if FF would let me write the word together). Before I do it though, I want to get to a point where you, the readers, can rely on me to put out a consistent 2-3 chapters a month (2 chapters per story). I'm one of those guys that got scammed by putting his money into the works of an author, only to later regret it as they weren't reliable with their releases despite their promises and the money their fans were giving to them. I don't want to do that or be like that to any of you, so I'll wait until I've become more reliable on my releases before setting up any kind of system where someone could support me. **

**As always, comment if you liked it or if you got something to say.**


	6. Chapter 5: Letting It Go to Your Head

**Chapter 5: Letting It Go to Your Head**

There was no answer from a noble's brat, quivering and cowering in the shadows of the storeroom.

No, instead there were the shaky footsteps of someone who'd somehow found his never-before-seen courage, amateurishly trying to sneak his way towards the fringes of the battle, most likely trying their luck to score a clean backstab.

Shinji lifted his axe up high, held so tightly in his grip that he felt like the wooden haft might splinter in his hands, shifting his weight ever so slightly. There was the clunk of armor shifting as someone behind him took a step, something that could almost have been completely missed in the loud crashing of battle between Ralof and the Imperial soldier.

Quick as a whirlwind, he spun around and bashed the sword, which had been about to slash straight through his skull, out of the hand of the noble that he'd thought of as a pathetic, whimpering coward. Whether it was by luck or by skill, the axe strike that he'd intended to end the battle barely missed, only managing to hack off a few hairs from the noble brat's head. Not wasting the momentum, Shinji kept up the rotation, turning his body until he faced front, before spinning just as quickly again with a kick to the side of his literal backstabber's head.

There was a _**crack**_, and Shinji felt pain lance up his foot as the other man went down hard.

"**Tienan!"** The older Imperial bellowed. With a ferocity unlike anything his previous actions hads foretold, 3 quick and powerful slashes lashed out from his sword one after another, with Ralof barely able to keep up and block each one. With a yell, the older Imperial threw his whole weight into one last strike. Ralof, barely able to catch it with the blade of his axe in time, was sent flying into the air and loudly crashed into one of the shelves around the storeroom.

Shinji wasn't deaf to what had been going on in their battle. Despite the pain still lingering in his foot, in the blink of an eye, he turned and parried the old veteran's ferocious strike with his shield. "**You gods-damned bastard!" **Spittle flew from the old soldier's mouth, all rationality lost as savagery took its place. "When I get done with you, not even the Eight Divines will be able to recognize your miserable corpse!"

The blue-haired, former Japanese teenager had a perfectly good comeback for that. Of course he would, considering the fact that he actually wrote a book full of retorts for almost every occasion and kept it updated constantly (or at least he had, until it'd been lost in the shuffle when the Imperials had ambushed him). Unfortunately, there wasn't any time for any of that. Before he could even get ready to yell it out, the glib-tongued wonder had to quickly duck his head, the whiff of the Imperial's sword missing his head rang loudly to him. Shinji swore that he even heard it slightly clip the top of his helmet as it passed by. Too late though, the magus wasn't able to react fast enough to avoid the follow-up shield bash from the veteran.

'_Shit!' _Shinji thought to himself. It was like he'd run face-first into a brick wall. There was a sickening crunch, hot fluid flooded his face from the broken nose as he was heaved head-over-heels into the air and hit the stone wall at a dangerous angle. Sheer, crippling agony lanced down his spine as if an angry, red-hot steel rod had been shoved into it, while the bits that melted off raged into his veins. '_I can't move my legs.' _A sickening feeling rose up from his stomach, threatening to make itself known. Shinji knew that the only reason he was still alive was most likely because of the steel helmet he'd picked up. It was something that belonged to a Captain of the Guard, and judging by how much she'd taken pride in her station and her duty, there was no way that she'd been wearing something that wouldn't have made it clear that she was above the rest of her troops.

There was barely any strength left in his arms. Honestly speaking, even if he could stand back up, there was no way he'd be able to fight for much longer in this state.

Slow, deliberate, heavy footsteps thundered his way.

He could scarcely even twitch his fingers at the moment. Shinji's hands were locked so tightly onto his axe and shield that it was practically like rigor mortis had already set in.

Deep, labored breaths wheezed in and out as the sound of footsteps got closer, one step at a time.

The blue-haired magus glared down at the hand that clutched at the axe in a death grip. '_F*cking move!' _If his fingers didn't unclench soon, he had no doubt that Sheogorath would be laughing at the irony of a death grip actually causing someone's death. Something sprang to life in his chest as he saw more than felt his fingers slowly uncurl, the axe slipping out.

There wasn't much time left. With his legs and head not being able to move, there were only two things he could do at the moment. One was to keep an ear open and try to gauge exactly how quick the moment when the battleworn veteran would be close enough to chop his head off with that sword of his.

The other was to use the Heal spell from the Restoration school of magic.

Nords were a strong and hardy warrior race of humans. They sneered and derided any who relied on the lesser art of magic, the very fact that you weren't able to fight without it practically serving as evidence to them that you were weak. There was a reason, though, that people rarely died in Skyrim from succumbing to their wounds if they'd survived a fight. There was a reason why, even if it was obvious the enemy was going to die, no one in the home province of the first humans in Tamriel would walk away from their foes without being sure they'd passed on.

And that was because, in Skyrim, everyone knew at least a Restoration spell or two. Even those magic-hating Nords.

Hope flickered to life at the same time as the spell. The blue-haired Magus had never had enough money to convince the right people to teach him anything more than the most basic Restoration spell. Still, as the feeling slowly returned to his legs, Shinji didn't care at this point.

But even as he felt the spell slowly working its magic, he quickly sobered up. With the spell covered up behind his shield and the light coming from it being covered by the torch that was coincidentally hanging in its holder over his head, the swordsman would be taken completely by surprise when Shinji suddenly sprang back up with a surprise attack. That is, if he were given a few more moments.

It was too late, though. He no longer needed to keep an ear on his opponent. That was because he was already close enough to see him with his eyes.

The swordsman stood over him, raised sword glinting in the torchlight.

"**There's 9 Divines you Imperial scum!" **Bellowed out. The grizzled, old warrior's instincts took over, making him turn his body halfway to keep this newly reappeared threat in sight, while also trying to make sure that his downed opponent didn't make any sudden moves. Ralof surged out from the wreckage of the shelf that he'd been in, bloodied and raging like a bloodthirsty daedra, crossing half the distance in a heartbeat.

Just as fast though, daggers sprang up and blindsided him, causing Ralof to stop and use his axe to whack away what few he could. Cuts sprang up on his arms and legs, his torso barely protected by his Stormcloak Cuirass. There, standing and wielding an iron sword in one hand and a dagger in the other, was Tienan.

In the dim light of the room, Shinji could make out the silhouettes of a few potion bottles near the dual-wielder.

"Stand down, boy." The Stormcloak Rebel barked. "I'm not eager to wet my blade with the blood of someone who's barely been weaned."

The Imperial held an even gaze and never wavered. "Trebellius, I'll hold him off. Just hurry!"

The blonde-haired man looked torn, wanting to help out the young man who he'd picked up off of the chopping block but unable to take his eyes off of his foe who'd suddenly become a lot more dangerous.

Trebellius, though, had no such reservations whatsoever as he turned back to the axe-wielder on the floor, something almost akin to pride shone through his eyes. '_Almost worth training now.' _He commented to himself.

Sadly for him, though, he'd never get the chance. Shinji smirked to himself as the older man turned back to face him. '_I can feel my legs again.' _As soon as the sensation in his lower body returned to him, the magus lashed out with a gout of fire from his right hand, catching his would-be executioner right in his face. The Grandson of Worms had a resolve and determination unlike almost any other, which made sense to those who knew of his family lineage. Still, seeing the other man stab downward with his sword, fully intended to impale him onto the floor, despite his face literally on fire, gave Shinji a small sense of respect for the man. That didn't stop him from rolling out of the way and sweeping the older swordsman's legs out from him, but as the meaty thunk of his axe sounded and the man's still burning head was severed from the rest of his corpse, there was a part of him that knew he wouldn't be forgetting this battle.

There was a loud shriek.

"**Tribellius!" **

It didn't last long, cut off by a meaty _**thunk**_.

Weapons clattered to the floor as Shinji walked up to the freshly-dead body of a boy who was his age to grab the axe that had gotten stuck in his pale and slender face. He could feel the older Nord's gaze on him as he braced himself against the remains, his weapon having gotten itself lodged in it pretty well. Feeling something under the hand that was bracing itself on the carcass of his former opponent, he reached inside its tunic and found a slip of parchment. '_Could be useful.' _He noted, before pocketing it and retrieving his axe.

"I've seen those kinds of moves before. Where did you learn how to fight?" Ralof asked, gruffly.

Shinji slung his weapon at his belt, with the shield going on his back, before reaching up with both hands and cracking his jaw into place. It didn't take long for it to fix itself, the injury apparently simple enough for his body to heal once everything was back in order. Swishing some saliva around, he soon spat to the side, all the blood that had been pooling in his mouth now gone. '_Humans in this age are practically a Phantasmal Race.' _He noted, not for the first time since he'd found himself on Nirn.

"Orphan. Grew up under a _kind _old lady." He sneered.

Loud bellows from the normally-serious Nord made Shinji slowly turn to eye Ralof with a quizzical look.

"You too, eh?" The other man said with a grin, once he'd caught his breath.

The questioning look on Shinji's face didn't go away.

"Leave your face like that for too long, you might not be able to change it back later, you know?" Ralof said, warmly clasping the blue-haired magus' shoulder. "Sometimes," The older man leaned in, whispering. "I think the old hag will out-live the _elves_." The rebel walked off and started to wander the room. "Look around, see if you can find any potions. If there's more fights like this up ahead, we're going to need them."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Comment if you've got something to say, see any errors or know a way it could've been done better.**

**Finally got this done! Let me hear your thoughts on the fight scene. I can't tell you how long it took to plan that out, because I'm not very good at writing them. Honest opinions on it, good or bad, and I'll give special shout-outs in the next chapter to anyone who can give me feedback.**

**Also, I've started a community. If you're a fan of the RWBY anime (which I was until the end of season 6), you might enjoy the stories in it. They're all Jaune-centered fics (or stories with him as one of the main characters). I only let in fanfics with: Good Grammar, Good Idea/Plot, and Decent Story-length (20K+ words). **

**For fans of my other story, I've set up a poll on my author page. You can help decide who the MC's love interest for it will be! (Shinji's Poll won't be up until I've introduced a majority of the women who would be on it, sorry).**


	7. Author's Note: Delays Due to Life

**Hello everyone, this is your fanfic author, WildlyLaughing. Apologies for the fact that this isn't a chapter but I have bad news. My laptop is fried, and with it goes my ability to finish the next chapter of the story. **

**I suppose I **_**could**_** try to finish writing everything on my mobile like how I'm writing this right now, but that would drastically decrease the quality of the chapter as well as be too much of a hassle to deal with. ****_Luckily, _****though, I was planning on building a gaming PC anyway and have already paid for the parts to ship. If everyone is willing to wait an extra 2 weeks, I'll have everything I need to build my PC and crank out the chapters. **

**As a "Thank You" for waiting, I guarantee 3 chapters for the story once the new date arrives.**

**Lastly, I'll remove this author's note once I post the newer chapters. Thanks for understanding!**

**Fox Dragon New Date: 7/22**

**Worm VS Wyrms: 7/29**


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